I Feel
by Harpo2112
Summary: HBOC-Shrouded intheir past tragedies, Hector Barbossa and Shannon O'Sullivan felt doomed to live a life alone. But when they meet and feel the need to be together, they believe they have found salvation, but how long will it last? ON HIATUS
1. Last Words

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Yay! my first story!

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"I Feel"

Void, they were void at first glance. But if one did a double take, you could see the great depth they held and you would feel as if you would give your life and perhaps commit a multitude of deadly sins to know the mystery they held. They were the lightest possible shade of grey there could be without turning into white. Staring into them was like looking down on a frozen lake in the middle of winter, you _knew_ that there was water and fish beneath the surface, but to see them you would have to wait out the long months ahead for spring, or get out a pick axe and break the ice. Patience or hard work. They were framed by thick bristly brown lashes, and shadowed by her long light brown hair. She had a face as pale and as striking as a full moon in a black sky. Her expression expressed nothing but an indifference that was almost too painful to look at.

Almost.

Back then, he was already so apathetic to everything that he could only look at her with curiosity. He knows that once the curse is lifted he will go to her. And at last will he be able to feel again the smoothness of her skin, feel the softness of her hair, feel the gentleness of her slender hands in his. He thinks about her every day. He began think that she must have stopped waiting, found someone else.

_I tried to replace her_, he admits shamefully to himself._ And with someone who isn't remotely like her. Well, except her courage. They both could scare a shark into submission_. He chuckles to himself.

He remembers now that she would never stop waiting. It had been seven years now. He tries to remember what she said on their last night, in the small tavern room upstairs, but he can't recall just now. So, he puts it aside for later. He must focus on the task at hand.

"So what now, Jack Sparrow? Are we to be two immortals locked in an epic battle until Judgment Day and trumpets sound?"

"Or you could surrender." His former captain shoots back. He lets out a growl and continues. Parry, thrust, advance, parry, thrust, advance, and parry once again. It continues on and on and all that can be heard is the clash of blade against blade. All the memories of her come flooding back to him now, keeping him going. Giving him a reason. A light at the end of a tunnel. But suddenly, a shot rings out in the cave. And it comes not from his pistol. He smirks now.

"For ten years, ye be carryin' that pistol, and ye waste yer shot." He laughs. Just the image of her face keeps him steady. Confidant.

"He didn't waste it!" the boy calls behind him.

He turns around and watches with agony the last piece of Aztec gold, smeared with blood, fall into the open stone chest.

He rips open his shirt and sees his own blood. He staggers back now, eyes wide open in disbelief.

He remembers now what she said when they parted,

"I'll wait forever, Hector. Forever. If that's how long you'll be, then I'll wait forever. Not even God himself could move me from this place. It's because I love you. It's because now, for the first time since I left home…I feel"

"'I feel'" he remembers, he says it out loud. A look of confusion crosses his face, "…cold"


	2. Seven Years Ago

Seven Years Ago

A girl sits on the floor facing cold iron bars. She does not plan an escape, look for a way out, or even hope for a rescue. She lets out a breath and wonders mildly when the ship would be getting underway again. Another pirate ship had crossed their path and the captain was now trying desperately to barter a safe passage away.

The girl closes her eyes and leans back against the inside of the ship. She starts to think about her father's horses, and their farm, but stops herself.

_Mustn't do that anymore._ She thinks, _They aren't his anymore. They aren't mine._

She was close to another dreamless sleep when the loud clanking of iron keys clattered into the lock, causing her eyes to snap open. She looked up to see the first mate unlocking the cell door.

"It's time to go." He tried to keep his voice steady, but she could hear almost a hint of fear in his voice.

He led her up the stairs and onto the deck where the captain and the rest of the crew were waiting, and stood behind her, placing one hand on her shoulder. Next to the captain stood a man she had never seen on the ship before.

He was tall, and stood with a commanding authority, as if, no matter what the situation, he was in control. Always. He wore a long grey coat and a wide brimmed hat and had a monkey on his right shoulder

"How 'bout her, Captain Barbossa? She's a very pretty girl, isn't she?" the captain sounded so desperate now, so anxious.

A few seconds passed by.

"She got a name?" the reply came calmly and quietly. He sounded uninterested, bored even, much in contrast to the other captain.

"Oh, um," he stuttered, "You, girl, what's your name?" he called out to her.

The first mate tightened his grip on her shoulder. Over the past dew days of her captivity, he had been very kind to her. Sometimes he would sneak into the brig at night to bring her more food and water. Sometimes he would stay and talk to her. She never talked back, but he never seemed to mind. One time, he told her that when they made port next, he would take her to shore and marry her, "if she'd have a lousy bilge rat like himself". He was drunk.

She didn't answer the captain. She didn't blink, she just stood there with her hands lying limply by her side, and her eyes cast downward.

"Doesn't say much does she?" Barbossa said with a laugh.

"But, that is-um, the best quality in a woman, no doubt?" the fear in his voice made him stutter.

A long pause. Then, "I suppose yer right. I'll take her." He said with a hearty laugh.

The captain let out a sigh of relief.

The girl closed her eyes.

The first mate whispered in her ear, "_I'm sorry." _

She heard a few heavy steps coming towards her, was taken by the arm, and felt herself being pulled into someone. She opened her eyes and looked up.

He almost took a step backward, her eyes were so piercing. They bore into his very soul. He felt a shudder shake his whole body and for a moment he thought he felt his heart beat inside his chest.

She felt sudden flashes warmth spread through her arms and legs, and even the tips of her fingers and toes. Her eyes widened in shock. She had never felt this way before.

They held each other's glance for a moment before Barbossa looked away. He waved over one of his crew, and let go of her arm.

"T-Take her to The Pearl" he muttered, still a bit shaken.

The man nodded and led her away. Barbossa watched her go for a moment, dazed. But he shook it off and pulled out his pistol, pointed it at the captain, and cocked it.

He interrupted the captain's pleas and objections by pulling the trigger.

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The girl was taken to the captain's cabin, and locked in. She took a few steps around the room, her dress rustling softly as she walked. 

It was a deep claret color, with black lace underneath. She wore it over a plain white shift, both of which she stole from a barrel outside a dressmaker's shop in Tortuga. It was her first new dress in a year, and she was very careful with it.

She went up to the window and looked up at the stars.

Then Barbossa came into the room. He strode over to a long table and picked up a decanter of port.

"So, what's yer name?" he asked, while pouring out some of the drink into a glass. He tried to make his voice sound casual, but he was still reeling from the look they shared.

She stayed silent. She clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking; she was getting those warm flashes again.

He set down the decanter, and took a few steps so he was standing close behind her.

"I asked you a question, missy" he growled, trying to be threatening.

When she didn't answer, he turned her around and twisted her arm behind her back. She winced and let out a gasp of pain.

"Now listen here, wench." He began while she struggled against his grip, "I won't be too inclined to be nice to you if ye keep ignoring me. I just might be persuaded to leave you to the mercy of my crew…just so you know; we haven't made port in three months." He whispered threateningly in her face.

She stared back at him with wide eyes.

"So, what's yer choice?" he said with a smug smile.

She gulped, opened her mouth, and for the first time in a very long time she spoke.

"Sh-shannon. Shannon O'Sullivan." she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"It's a pleasure, Miss O'Sullivan." He said, releasing her. The he added, "But, if you'll excuse me, I have a few matters that need be taken care of." And with that he left the room.

She held her breath until he closed the door behind him. She looked about the room and lowered her trembling self into a chair.

Then, she started to cry. She wasn't sure why, she wasn't sad, or angry, or extremely happy. Everything seemed so overwhelming, these new feelings of safety and…and something else. She wasn't sure what exactly that something was, but she couldn't think about it just then.

Long silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Memories of home started to flood back into her mind. She brought her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes, trying to make them go away. She laid her head on her knees started to feel drowsy. It had been a long time since she last slept.

She took a deep breath, and felt herself slipping away.

* * *

Barbossa came back into the room with long heavy steps but silenced himself when he saw her curled up in the chair. 

Letting out a sigh, he went up to her and scooped her up in his arms trying very hard not to wake her. He carried her over to the bed and set her down lightly, as if she were made of glass. Then, he picked up a blanket and draped it over her, making sure she was warm. He didn't know why he was being so gentle with her. Perhaps it was guilt? No, there was something about this girl that stirred a part of him that he thought he had lost. He wouldn't let himself acknowledge it just yet, he had to find out more about this girl.

"Shannon." He whispered softly, only wanting to hear how her name sounded on his lips. It was almost like music. He said it again, this time savoring every syllable, "Shannon"

He looked down at his hand, the one he twisted her arm with, and remembered feeling a heartbeat for just that one moment. He took that hand and gently brushed the hair out of her eyes-there! He felt it again!

He withdrew his hand and decided that he would investigate this matter further in the morning, so he pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down, propping his feet up on the mattress. He leaned back in the chair and pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes, and fell asleep.


	3. Dawn

**Ok so, just a little f.y.i. : the fo'c's'le is an abbreviation for 'forecastle' which is the upper deck near the bow (front) of the ship. Gaelic is an old language which was spoken in the Ireland and Scotland areas. The stuff that Barbossa gives to Shannon is called 'burgoo', a kind of porrage. I didn't say this in the text because, Shannon doesn't know what it is.**

**I think that's everything...**

**I'd like to thank all 6 of my reviewers, expecially LadyBarbossa since she reviewed twice, and of course Cat because she's awesome. **

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Chapter Three-Dawn

She had woken up just as the sun began to peek out over the horizon. A giant half circle of white and gold cast a pink haze over the ocean and lit up the clouds.

From the mattress Shannon cocked her head to the side and squinted to see the sunrise more clearly. Then she realized that she had been moved from the chair to the bed. A quiet snore made her aware of a presence behind her. She turned herself around so that she was lying on her side and saw Barbossa asleep in chair beside the bed. She pulled the blanket around her tighter, realizing that he must have put it on her. A ghost of a smile appeared on her face for a short moment, as she admired his peaceful form.

She looked at his still sleeping figure up and down, committing it to memory. She thought about what kind of a man he might be. Yesterday, he had been so rough that she thought her…honor might be compromised. But instead, she had woken up in a soft bed, covered in a warm blanket. _He's so…different. _She thought. _I can't make him out. _

Suddenly overcome by a spontaneous urge to touch him, she reached out and rubbed his yellow sash between her fingers, feeling the softness. Then, scooting closer, she skimmed her fingers along his smooth leather baldric and the engraved silver buckle. She took notice of his folded hands resting on his chest and saw a silver ring depicting a lion's head. She peered at him under his big, round, hat trying to see his face. Becoming frustrated and even more curious, she reached out her hand to take off his hat, but just as she grasped the brim, his hand grasped her wrist.

"Don't" he said, his voice groggy from sleep.

She didn't.

She quickly retracted her hand and turned around, so her back was to him, feeling rather embarrassed. But after a few seconds of silence, she turned around again. He was still asleep.

Barbossa muttered something incoherent, and seemed to fall back into a deeper slumber. But instead of doing that, his eye lids fluttered open, and she quickly shut her eyes He looked around him, and noticed her on the bed, apparently still asleep. The sunrise cast a golden glow over her face.

Still in the chair, he leaned forward, and reached out to brush a renegade strand of hair behind her ears. He slowly got up from his chair and, smoothing out his clothes, walked out the door and locked it behind him.

After waiting a few moments to be certain he was gone, she got up out of the bed; her cheeks now a bright shade of pink, a complete contrast to her pale skin. Wrapping the blanket like a shawl around her shoulders, she began to stroll about the cabin running her fingers over tables and bookshelves. She stopped and examined an array of charts that were strewn over a desk.

Becoming uninterested, she walked back over to the bookcase and selected a text at random and skimmed the pages, looking for an illustration.

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Half the morning was gone before the door opened again, and this time she could smell food. Her stomach growled, and she realized that her last meal was two days ago. She turned around and saw Barbossa with a hot bowl of something she couldn't recognize, and a biscuit. He set it down on the dining table. 

"You must be hungry. Eat." He told her.

She gave him a blank look, as if she did not quite understand. He took notice of the book in her hands, and feeling generous, told her,

"You can help yerself to any of the books, if ye like."

Realizing that she was still holding it, she quickly set the book down on a desk.

"No" she said sharply. She was getting embarrassed again and was beginning to wonder why she cared so much of what he thought of her.

"No?" Barbossa was confused,

She stared down at her feet, and said nothing.

He let go, for now, and spoke again.

"There be a few rules ye will need t' follow: yer not allowed anywhere on the ship without an escort, or permission from me. Otherwise ye are to stay in here." He paused, "Understood?"

She nodded, still looking down. He wanted to say something more, but didn't now what would be appropriate for the situation. So, he left.

Shannon suddenly felt hot, so hot she was beginning to feel nauseous. She let the blanket fall to the floor and went to window. She pressed her cheek against the cold glass. The cooling sensation did nothing to make the heat and queasiness go away, and now her mind was left in fog. She thought back to that morning when his fingers brushed the hair away from her face, and how gentle he was.

The fog, the nausea, and the heat went away.

Now she was light headed, she felt her throat closing up, and flutters in her stomach.

She went over to the table and picked up the biscuit. She sat down, and began to think.

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Barbossa was lost in thought as he commanded at the helm. He was standing just above the captain's cabin, just above _her_. He could feel her presence radiating through the floor. Not being able to concentrate, he called someone over to take the helm. He stepped off the stern and made his way over to the Fo'c's'le. He placed his hand on the railing and breathed in. The salty sea spray lightly stung his cheeks. 

He could feel everything, he realized. His senses had disappeared two years ago, but now _he_ _could feel everything_.

It was this girl. There was something about this girl, something that broke the curse. But how come the crew are unaffected by her? Was she a witch, like Tia Dalma? Or a goddess, perhaps, like Calypso?

_No_, he mused. She was just a girl, a very beautiful and mystifying girl.

He was suddenly overtaken by a flood of feelings, and wants, and desires. He felt nervous; he wanted to hold her; he desired more than anything the sound of her voice…among other things. He closed his eyes trying to picture the way her face looked the night before, asleep on the bed, _his_ bed. He pictured her silhouette in front of the window, looking up at the moon. He saw her fair face and her soft hair lit up by the morning's rosy dawn.

Then, Jack the Monkey jumped down from out of nowhere and landed on his master's shoulder. Barbossa looked at him a minute.

"Jack," he sighed, "I'm in trouble."

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She didn't want to acknowledge it, but it was there, refusing to be ignored. Just thinking of him made her heart flutter. She had not felt any feelings at all since she left home, her past tragedies robbed her of all compassion. Gone too were the senses of belonging and safety. Since that day, she had never stayed in one place long enough to call it home. 

Everything had changed now. She couldn't bear the thought of him taken away from her. He made her feel safe. She didn't want to leave him, either.

_I'm bein' foolish. I don't even know his firs' name. I don't know anything about him, but…these feelings tha' I get when he's near, or even when I think of him. Those warm flashes I get when he touches me…I never felt anything like tha' for anyone ever before_ …_I think I __**need**__ him. _

She decided she needed to sit down, and took a seat on the wide window ledge. Her arms wrapped around one knee that she brought to her chest, while the other dangled over the edge. She leaned back against the window pane and closed her eyes, trying to clear her head.

Then she began to sing.

Her voice was soft and frail, like a child's, as if the slightest breeze could carry it away. But her Gaelic accent made it stronger, so it was audible.

"_Hush ye, my bairnie, my bonnie wee lassie…hush ye…" _

She repeated this over and over again, like a mantra.

He was about to come back into the room, but stopped when he heard her voice. He remained at the door, captivated. His eyes closed as he let her voice consume and hypnotize every living part of him.


	4. Into the Sun

**So sorry for getting this in so late! My laptop's screen cracked and it took forever for the people to fix. **

**I don't think I need to put any little explanations for this one, but if I missed something then message me.**

Chapter 4-Into the Sun

The next few days passed by with a tantalizing slowness. Each day was horribly painful for each of them, for both so longed to speak out about how the other has affected each of them.

Silenced by their bashfulness, their days were spent in agonizing routine. He would get up, and then she would get up. He would bring her breakfast, set it on the table, and not come back until nightfall. It pained them both terribly about how they could be in such close quarters and not be able to say a word. Sometimes, Shannon would wake up in the middle of the night, her heart aching with all the words she couldn't say. Shannon had spent many years in silence, but now she had a more than million words that dared to erupt from her lips like a waterfall. But every time she opened her mouth, she felt breathless, and her mind went blank.

And Barbossa, he almost never slept. He would sit in his chair at night, studying her. Her pale face seemed even fairer in the celestial moonlight, and her hair was like a silk fan spread out on the pillow. She was like a painting; a Botticelli angel come to life.

Barbossa had to completely rely on any self-control he had left to keep from touching her. He so wanted to hold her close to him, and breathe in the sweet scent of her hair. He wanted to trace the outline of her face with his finger. Every time he tried to reach out to her, his heart started beating wildly in his chest, like a hammer. It was enough to make him tremble, and his hand falter.

One day, as he was leaving, she took an apple off the table and followed after him. After noticing the light sounds of foot steps behind him, he turned around in front of the door and blocked the exit.

"An' just where do ye think yer going?" he asked skeptically with an eyebrow raised.

"On deck." She replied nonchalant, looking straight ahead. She moved around him, Jack the monkey jumping onto her shoulder as she went past. Barbossa watched her receding figure as she climbed the steps, handing Jack a small chunk of her apple.

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Shannon squinted as the sunlight hit her eyes, and as she emerged from below she could feel a hundred eyes on her. She slowly walked the length of the ship, every head turning as she passed. She made it to the bow and leaned out over the railing, with Jack still perched upon her shoulder.

The crew had watched dumbstruck as she walked passed them. They had only caught a short glimpse of her when she was first brought on board, and hadn't expected her to walk up on deck so boldly.

When she stopped walking, they shifted their gaze to Barbossa, giving him a puzzled look. He shot them a glare that clearly told them to mind their own business.

"Get back t' work!"

Then he went up to the helm. He stayed there and tried to focus on the ship, the crew, anything but her. But he couldn't help it. He finally gave in to his yearnings and rested his eyes on her figure at the opposite end of the ship.

At the bow, Shannon stood stoking Jack's fur. She stared out at the sea completely mesmerized with its vastness. She closed her eyes as the wind gently pushed its way through her hair and softly rustled her dress. Her hand felt the smoothness of the railing and the softness of Jack's fur. Her bare feet felt the rough wooden planks beneath her. She felt the weight of the monkey as he shifted positions on her shoulder. She took a moment to enjoy these long-forgotten sensations, and would have gone on enjoying them, had she not been interrupted.

"Would you be needin' anything, miss?"

And then another voice, "Anyfing, at all?"

Jack had become startled and jumped to the railing, most likely to better observe the scene. Shannon opened her eyes and turned around. Standing behind her were two other pirates, one was fairly tall and gangly, with a wooden eye, and the other was slightly shorter and less hair.

She must have looked confused because the man with the wooden eye, who was the one who spoke first, now spoke again eagerly, "Cause, we'd fetch it for you right quick, we would."

"If it'd make your stay here more comfortable, that is." The other added.

Thinking of nothing, and also suspicious of what their true motives might be, Shannon gave a little shake of her head and quietly declined.

"Well, if you change your mind," the second one said, "I'm Pintel, and he's Ragetti. So, if you be needin' us-"

He was cutoff by a hand clapping down hard on his shoulder.

"Well, if it isn't the indolent Masters Pintel and Ragetti" Barbossa said, voice dripping with sharp sarcasm, "Taking a short break from yer duties to show yer hospitality to the lady? How nice." He finished with a menacing growl. The two, now frighten pirates, scampered back to their stations.

Then, he turned to face her, and his face softened.

"They weren't…bothering ye, were they?" he asked timidly.

The sudden change in his attitude had somewhat astonished her, and had momentarily left her stunned.

_This isn't the type of man to be figured out so easily._ She concluded before being brought back to the present situation.

"Erm, no, they haven't" she spoke, tripping over her words.

"Good." His reply was abrupt, as was his departure. This time Jack the monkey decided to follow suit, leaping from the railing to his master's shoulder. She watched as he walked away, back to the helm, and studied him. There was a certain manner in his walk, which made him look as of he bore a great deal upon his shoulders, other than a monkey. It reminded her of Atlas, a figure in a bedtime story of Greek origin her father once told to her long ago. In the story Atlas is tricked into holding up a corner of the sky. If he should drop it, the whole world might come apart. He literally carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders. But what sort of weight would Barbossa carry? What makes him so weary? These things puzzled Shannon, and she decided to find out, if only to continue to make out his character.

Turning back to face the ocean, Shannon tilted her head upwards, letting herself bask in the sunshine. It felt so good to be so warm and so free. She thought about how protective he seemed to be with her, and how nice it felt to be cared about. She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty sea air, and she smiled.

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End file.
